From Acquantinces to More
by Mad-and-Hairy
Summary: From the first time Greg and Mycroft met, to what the future holds for them, and all the adventures in between. Eventual Mystrade. Slight ooc of characters. Don't like don't read.
1. First Impressions Always Last

**First** Impressions Always Last

Greg's POV

It was late, too late for me to still be in the office, but I had to finish the reports in time if I ever wanted a shot at DI. I pulled another sheet from the pile. MYSTERIOUS MAN, MOST LIKELY ON DRUGS, CONTAMINATED CRIME SCENE. That was a common theme as of late, Sherlock Holmes, as I found out was his name, would show up at a crime scene and tell us all what we were doing wrong. Most of time he was strung out and definitely had a combination of drugs in his system so we'd book him and take him back to the station. However, by the time we'd get there and officer would be waiting to tell us to let him go. It was bullocks how this man got away with everything, and I decided that if I ever made DI I would put a stop to this once and for all.

"Mr. Lestrade?" I jerked my head up to find a tall man, with a plump frame standing beside me. He was wearing a well-tailored suit, and had a black umbrella grasped firmly in his two hands.

"Yes," I replied cautiously still eying up the mysterious man. He held himself with all the confidence of the queen herself, as if he was untouchable. "And you are?"

"Who I am is none of your concern, but you can just refer to me as Mr. Holmes." He explained instead of giving me a straight forward answer.

"There are two of you?" I blurted out before I could stop myself. The other Holmes just stared at me as I was a complete idiot.

"Yes Mr. Lestrade, Sherlock is regrettably my younger brother." He seemed to consider me a waste of time, because he had the expression of a man who was about to cut out early on a date.

"So you are the one who has been bailing him out." I accused, pieces of the puzzle finally falling into place.

"Very good Lestrade, I see you do have some intelligence, perhaps there is hope for you yet." He took a step forward, towering over me sitting on the chair. I had the urge to stand, show that I wasn't going to back down, but I felt he would take that as a challenge.

"Why are you here then?" His expression softened a tad but was still threatening all the same.

"I have a proposition for you. As you are well aware my brother has a drug addiction. And before you interrupt me, no he doesn't do it for thrills; he does it to stop thinking. My brother and I were blessed with superior minds, and his mind is going to waste. He has created a job for himself as a consulting detective instead of sucking it up and getting a real job. As you can imagine he doesn't receive a lot of cases and finds himself bored most of the time, in which he then turns to drugs. So here is what I'm telling you to do." By this point the elder Holmes had completely took over my personal space, his face inches from mine. "Let him in on your cases. Consult with him."

"No!" I pushed my chair back, standing up to face him. "Absolutely not, I will not have amateurs messing up my crime scene. So take your idiotic idea to someone else."

"I can see why they've chosen you. You will make a fine DI." The man smirked at me.

"DI?" I gasped in surprise, "What the bloody hell are you going on about?"

"Language Mr. Lestrade. I hold a minor position in the British Government, and it came to my attention that you were to be the new DI. So I thought, if you were Detective Inspector then you could allow my brother the access he demands." He chuckled as my face went slack jaw.

"Are you bribing me?" My suspicions of them man doubled, and I was set on edge. Minor position my arse.

"Not at all. You will make Detective Inspector whether you accept this or not. I just figured you would jump at the chance to get one more drug consumer off the streets of London." He shrugged his shoulder, as if it didn't really matter to him either way.

"How do I know I can trust you?" I asked, making the other Holmes outright laugh.

"My dear boy, you can't trust me. In fact never trust me. It's probably for the best, but you can trust the facts. All of those papers you find yourself so tediously flipping through, all of them that document my brothers involvement and the claims he made. All those claims were proven true in twice the time it took my brother." He turned away from me and started making his way through the maze of cubicles. "Until we meet again, Greg." He called over his shoulder as way of goodbye, and I found myself sinking to my chair in disbelief. '_I never told him my name?'_

_**R&R**  
_


	2. I Want A Second Opinion

I Want a **Second** Opinion

Greg POV

"Greg Lestrade?" I had just stepped out of Scotland Yard, when a young brunette approached me. She was wearing a skin tight outfit and had a cell phone firmly in hand; her eyes never wavered from the electronic device.

"Yes, who is asking?" I replied a little unsure of what was going on.

"Get in the car sir." Sure enough a sleek black car pulled up next to her. She switched her phone into her other hand and opened the door.

"I'm not getting into that car. Not unless you tell me why." She finally looked up as if in shock, a small smirk playing on her lips.

"My employer would like to speak to you." She simply replied and gestured once again to the car. She must of noticed my hesitation because she smiled, "Don't worry, my employer is quite fond of you." I couldn't see any other way out so reluctantly I climbed into the back seat. The woman closed my door before sliding into the seat behind me.

"I'm Greg." I offered clumsily to break the awkward silence. Her eyes once again were on her phone.

"I know." She replied, not paying me any attention, "You can call me Artemis."

"Interesting name." I commented, trying to start a conversation.

"It's not my real one." She stated and I could tell the rest of the ride would be in silence.

After about a half hour of driving around in circles, the vehicle pulled into an abandoned parking garage. When the car stopped Artemis just gestured for me to get out. Taking a deep breath I opened the door, expecting to be shot, expecting to be kidnapped, held hostage, tortured. I didn't expect to see the elder Holmes standing there leaning on his umbrella.

"Greggory, how's the wife." He asked as way of greeting and I had to frown at his knowing smirk.

"We are no longer on speaking terms." I ground out.

"Well of course, I would never speak to my wife if she got her kicks from another, especially one with such a lowly profession as bartender." he almost looked compassionate, but I must have been mistaken.

"You're married?" I asked instead and he just shot me one of those '_You're a complete idiot,'_ looks.

"No." he replied, to make sure his message got across. That's when something else clicked.

"And wait she told me she was sleeping with the postman! What do you mean she was with the bartender?" I demanded anger flowing through my brains. Who did this man think he was?

"Let's just say your wife has many lovers, none of which are you." He answered a very smug look on his face.

"Did you really kidnap me just to tell you that I have an unfaithful wife?" It was more of a statement than a question. But the other Holmes replied anyway,

"No, that is not the only reason. I invited you out here to congratulate you on getting promoted to Detective Inspector, and to see if you had considered my offer." He stared me down, his face a mixture of friendly and threatening.

"I told you before it was no! I'm not going to compromise myself so your brother can get his jollies playing detective." I was once again outraged, was this man really that confident or just that thick.

"But you've already been discretely taking his advice. Listening to his mad rambles at crime scenes and using them for your advantage. Why not just give him the credit he deserves. I've also noticed you have stopped arresting him, why stop unless you want to hear what he has to say. In case you haven't noticed, he has begun only showing up to your crime scenes, as well as not becoming intoxicated as often." I had to admire the way the older Holmes explained things, as if he didn't really care about his brother, that all of this would make his life easier, and that's all that mattered.

"Well, you told me to trust the facts and I am." I defended myself.

"So trust my brother, because all he says are facts." He smoothly ordered, and I knew right then and there I would be listening to him later. He handed me a phone number with the initials S.H. next to it.

"Fine. I'll let him on one case. Just one, as a trial, but only one that I have no clue what to do with, so it might be awhile." I agreed, making sure my stipulations were clear.

"Excellent that we finally agree Gregory, glad to have you aboard." With a curt nod the man stood up straight and made his way to a car that had been lurking in the shadows.

"Tell me your first name!" I called after him, "If you don't our deal is off."

"Oh Lestrade," Holmes chuckled, "That is not your call. Until next time." I watched in disbelief as he got into his car and drove away. I climbed back in the car that had brought me here when my phone went off, a text from one of the new recruits, Donvon.

_A man was found dead on the London Eye. Looks like murder, but no one knows how._

I rolled my eyes at the text; apparently I would be calling Sherlock a lot sooner than I bargained for.

**R&R**


	3. Third Times The Charm

**AN: I'm writing this without an editor so if you see any mistakes feel free to point them out!  
**

**Third** Times the Charm

Greg Pov

Sherlock turned out to be a valuable asset to Scotland Yard, but I swore I would keep that little fact to myself until I was dead, or extremely intoxicated. It just so happened that I found myself in that predicament, drunk not dead, though that's what it felt like. That bitch I used to call my wife showed up today asking for a divorce, a divorce that would take everything from me. She was the one who cheated on me, and she is demanding the divorce. '_Shit, I'm still sober enough to think.'_ I began to regret leaving the bar, but what choice did I have, they were closing. I stumbled around the street like a moron, trying to figure out which direction my home was, so maybe I wasn't so sober.

"Mr. Lestrade." I froze immediately, as if doused with ice water. I just noticed that a black car had pulled up alongside the street I had been attempting to navigate.

"What you want?" My speech mildly slurred, instantly recognizing the man in the back seat.

"Get in the car before you hurt yourself." He ordered. I was about to snap back before I came to the realization that he could take me home. I nodded in agreement before staggering over to the other side of the car and crawling inside of it.

"Thanks," I mumbled once I was safely in the vehicle.

"You smell like a bar." He scolded, "Driver to Lestrade's house, and take the long route." He announced before turning to face me, pressing a button that put a divider between us and the driver. The car began moving, and I found myself gripping the door to steady myself. "Quite a predicament you've got yourself into Greg."

"No! You don't get to use my first name! Not until I know yours!" I yelled at him, my head spinning.

"Fine, Mr. Lestrade, I heard about the divorce, messy business that is. I'm quite surprised at you actually." He stated and I felt the words as if they had slapped my face.

"What! She is a cheating," I began to snap back when he put his hand up to stop me.

"You misunderstand me. I am surprised that you didn't leave her ages ago." I gazed at him skeptically but I could tell he was being honest by the somber expression.

"Yeah, well she begged for a second chance, and like a tit I agreed." I sighed, the facts finally sinking in through the alcohol haze, "And now she is going to take it all."

"No she will not." The elder Holmes decided.

"She practically slept with the entire system! She. Will. Get. Everything." I replied, tears threatening to spill. '_You will not cry in front of this man.' _I thought but instead I mumbled, "I guess I deserve this."

"No, She. Won't." he reassured, shifting in his seat to face me front on, the umbrella perched between us like a barrier. "You forgot who you are talking to. I can make sure she walks away with less than her fair share. You can count on that."

"You would do that? What's the catch?" I asked still suspicious of the man, even when drunk, especially when drunk.

"I am hurt that you think so little of me. There is no catch. I owe you Gregory, and I hate owing people." I relaxed a little at the statement, this I could handle, repaying a debt. Curiously enough I still felt a ping of disappointment.

"Alright then," I stated, hoping none of my inner turmoil was showing on my face.

"Gregory, I would just like to say, I consider you something akin to friendship. For obvious reasons friendship is too strong of a word, but it is the closest comparison I have." He almost seemed reluctant to admit that.

"The feeling is mutual Mr. Holmes. And I must say that Sherlock is probably the best thing to happen to the force. So in all actuality I owe you." I quickly added, "Please don't tell Sherlock." This made the man chuckle.

"Gregory, I am glad to hear that, and I promise you that, that woman will get nothing." He confirmed.

"Thank you. And just for your information I would consider you a friend, if I knew your first name." I joked but he just shrugged me off. I sighed, before settling back into my seat. Holmes pushed the button allowing the divider to retract. In a few quick turns, the car pulled up next to my house.

"Here you are Greg. Do be careful when entering you building." I took that as my dismissal and exited his car. "Goodbye Gregory, for now" He called from the open window as I fished in my pockets for my keys.

"Goodbye Mr. Holmes. " I replied not even looking up from my door.

"Please, call me Mycroft." He corrected before closing his window and driving away. I stood there staring after the car, my mouth gaped open.

"Goodnight Mycroft."

**R&R PLEASE!**


	4. Close Encounters Of The Fourth Kind

**AN: This chapter is a short one, just saying. :)**

Close Encounters of the **Fourth** Kind

Greg POV

I left John and Sherlock's flat a little while after Sherlock stormed out to go to St. Bart's Hospital. I wasn't looking forward to going home, especially since Sherlock mentioned the P.E. teacher. I decided I was finally done, I was going to leave her in the morning and that was that. I couldn't put up with this anymore. The last thing I expected was for Mycroft Holmes to be standing in front of my house, looking very tired.

"I see you are back with the wife." He observed and I had to fight the urge to smack his smug look off his face. "And she is back with the P.E. teacher." He added.

"Look, I'm not in the mood tonight Mr. Holmes." I almost plead for him to just leave.

"Neither am I." he looked older suddenly, as if he aged years in mere seconds. I muse inwardly of pointing that fact out to him.

"What are you even doing here?" I ask instead, and Mycroft automatically returns to his emotionless mask.

"I have found comfort in spending my holidays alone. I don't have a lot of companions, and the ones I do I can't stand normally. However recent events have made me reluctant to return to my solitude. So I found myself here, awaiting your arrival." He motions with his umbrella to wear he was standing.

"Well as flattered as I am Mycroft, I am in no mood to entertain. In fact I don't even plan on staying here long. Just grab the essentials and then I'm off. I'm leaving her this time, and she is not getting any other chances."

"Finally." Mycroft mutters swinging his umbrella impatiently, "You should have left her," this time I interrupted him.

"You know what, just stop! Okay. I don't need to hear this right now. I know, I'm an idiot, stupid, naïve, or whatever words you could come up with, but I don't give a damn right now." I snapped at him and he actually looks taken aback.

"My intentions were not to offend you." He corrected me, probably his way of apologizing.

"Just, please, leave. I can't handle all of this right now."

"Off course," the elder Holmes agreed, "I just have one more question."

"What?" I groaned, shifting from one foot the other and crossing my arms across my chest.

"Where do you plan to go?" Those six words made me stop, and actually consider what I was planning to do.

"Shit. I guess I could ask John." I mused aloud.

"Absolutely not, John has enough to deal with tonight; Sherlock is in one of his moods." Mycroft supplied, "Do you have any other options?"

"Not that I readily want to take advantage of." My eyes glared at the bedroom window, "Guess I'm sucking it up and taking the couch."

"You have more resources than you take into account." Mycroft approached me, revealing a manila folder. "Give this to her, pack your bags and get into the car that will be waiting for you." I accepted the folder opening it in disbelief.

"Divorce papers?" Mycroft just smiled and got into his vehicle.

"A car will be waiting, try not to take too long." He ordered before signaling for his driver to go.

"Thank you!" I called after him, the realization that I was going to be staying at Mycroft Holmes' house slowly coming to light.

**Please R&R**


	5. I Plead The Fifth

I Plead the **Fifth**

Greg POV

I sat on Mycroft's couch, surrounded by extravagant furniture, and gaudy paintings. It was a bit uncomfortable to say the least. I hardly even knew this man, and finding myself in his house, just proved it.

"You look uncomfortable, and I know that it's not the couch's fault." Mycroft observed from the doorway. I looked away, toeing the carpet awkwardly. "Come now, I'll show you were you will be staying." I stood up, grabbing my overnight bag and following him out of the lavish room.

"I don't mean to be ungrateful. I appreciate you doing this for me." I thanked him, trying to fill the awkward silence.

"I know you don't mean any disrespect, you're just not used to all of this." He gestured to the walls around us, polished wood paneling, deep red wall covers, vases, and portraits that probably cost more than I made in my life so far.

"That's an understatement." I rolled my eyes at him as I studied the halls. We walked for a while longer with the only sound between us being the sound of our footsteps. Mycroft broke the tension first.

"Something is bothering you?" he stated, his eyes fixed straight ahead.

"Bothering is not the term I would use, more like I just noticed something unsettling." I attempted to explain.

"What did you notice that has put you on edge like this?" he questioned, a hint of concern worming its way into his voice.

"Well," I rubbed the back of my neck unsure of how to address this, "It's just, we know nothing about each other." I decided it would be easiest to not beat around the bush.

"Trust me Lestrade, I know everything about you." He chuckled menacingly.

"I doubt that." I challenged him, and he paused mid step and turned to face me.

"You are in your late forties, I'll spare you the embarrassment of coming straight out with your age. Your five eleven, and your birthday is June thirtieth." Mycroft began, and I stood there absolutely shocked, my mouth hanging wide open as he continued, "Your favorite color is silver, but it used to be green, and before that red. You love Italian food, hate math, and always wanted a pet dog. You're in an unhappy marriage, you blame your wife's adultery, and she blames your sexuality. You lost your virginity at sixteen, with your best friend at the time Anna. In college you had various sexual encounters with a man named Phillip, which suggests homosexual tendencies, or perhaps your just bisexual, in which case your wife would be right."

"Wait! Hold it right there." I stop him. "I'm sorry but you have been severely misinformed."

"Really?" he countered.

"Yes. I was in college and I was drunk. That doesn't count." I argue.

"Drunk, for two months? How did you ever graduate?" He chided.

"You know too much about my personal life Mr. Holmes." I complained, begging inwardly that he would just drop it.

"Oh, it doesn't stop at social life Lestrade, I know your physical being quite intimately." My heart pounded in my chest. '_No Greg! You will not let your mind wander.' _But it was too late, just the way Mycroft had said it made all his blood run south, how seductive, and deep his voice had gotten. Now his mind was filled with all sorts of images.

"What?" I stuttered not being able to stop the shakiness of my speech.

"Seven and a half." He replied smugly, before once again continuing on his way down the hall, leaving me frozen to the floor.

"I don't understand." I quickly followed behind him not wanting to lose him in this gigantic house.

"Think about it Gregory. It is a measurement." The confusion evident in my voice.

"I don't know what you." And then it clicked. Seven and a half inches. "I don't want to know how you know how long my."

"Here we are Greg." He directed my attention to the door on his left. "And I told you, I make it my business to know every little detail."

"So you know everything about me, and I know nothing about you." I ground out, ticked about how much he had over me.

"You know my name, that's more than most people. Besides that is exactly how I prefer it. Don't be offended. I am a very private man." He explained as if that solved everything.

"So I can't know your favorite color? Or what you prefer to eat? I can't know what you do for fun, or your favorite book? Not even when you know how big my dick is? How is that fair?" I object.

"I never play fair. You of all people should know that." He sighs, as if tired that he has to repeat himself.

"You also told me not to trust you." I point out.

"Never trust me." He agrees, motioning once again to the door. "Here is the humblest guest room I have. You can stay here for tonight."

"Thank you, I know you didn't have to do this."

"No I didn't. And for your information it's Purple, and I have a weak spot for sweets." He declares, giving me a polite nod of his head before heading back the way we came.

"That's all I get, no other juicy little tidbits?" I call after him, and he pauses to reply.

"Nope that is all."

"At least tell me if you had any wild college days?" I inquired playfully, although very curious as to what was the answer. Was Mycroft even straight? Mycroft didn't answer, choosing to laugh a cliche evil laugh instead as he departed to his own room.

**Read, Review, and feel free to correct any and all of my errors!**


	6. Sixth Sense

**Sixth** Sense

Greg POV

There was just something in the air this morning that had me on edge. I couldn't pinpoint it, but I knew that something big was going to go down, that was the feeling that I had. As far as I could tell nobody else could sense it. They all seemed normal, going about their business, gossiping by the water cooler, and not doing their work. I rubbed my temples afraid that all this overthinking would lead to a migraine. I gazed sullenly at my bare desk, all pictures of my seemingly happy marriage removed, boxed away and waiting to be tossed out any day now. I was anxious to hear that I was officially divorced from that woman. All that anxiety didn't help ease the gnawing feeling filling my gut. I saw Donavon and Anderson approaching my office and abruptly decided that I should no longer be postponing my visit to the morgue. Grabbing my jacket off the back of my chair, I rushed out of the office, throwing a half hazard apology in their general direction. Only once I was safely out of the building did I begin to relax. Taking a deep breath of the toxic air that was purely London. The sound of my phone's text tone pulled me from my reprieve.

_We need to talk –M.H._

I read the text about four times before I realized who it was from, Mycroft Holmes. '_When did he get my number?'_

_Walk to the corner of the street you're on and take a right. – M. H._

Placing my phone in my pocket I decided that the last thing I needed was to be pushed around by Mycroft Holmes. Turning around, I walked past Scotland Yard and down to the opposite corner. My phone beeped again.

_Wrong way, turn around and go right. – M. H._

'_How the hell did he know that?' _I thought to myself, staring down at my phone.

_It's about the divorce. – M. H._

My heart stopped. The divorce.

_What about it? – G. L. _

_Follow my instructions and you will see. – M. H._

All those anxieties came back to me all at once and I found myself running to the corner and turning right.

_Now enter the third shop on the left, it's a small café with a green door. – M. H._

I followed his instructions, and met Mycroft in the back of the café. He looked incredibly uncomfortable, and out of place in the quaint building. He was in the back booth, patiently awaiting my arrival but looking displeased that I had taken so long.

"Afternoon." I greeted and he just nodded, accompanied by a small twitch of his lips.

"Order what pleases you, the waitress keeps telling me to buy something or else I will have to leave." He seemed annoyed, so when the waitress appeared I ordered a cup of tea and a chocolate chip muffin.

"You seem annoyed." I point out while waiting for my items to arrive so our conversation won't be interrupted.

"And you seem extremely jumpy today. Anxious are we?" he observes with a smug look, and an arched eyebrow.

"I just want everything to be said and done so I can move on with my life." I explain, graciously accepting the warm beverage as well as the snack.

"Well as we both anticipated she is fighting for more money." He began, "She even threatened my lawyer, saying she'd hire a better one. That was after she attempted to seduce him."

"She what!" I gasped; happy I hadn't taken a sip of my tea yet.

"Are you really as surprised about this as you sound?" he paused to give me time to consider the question but continued before I could answer, "Little does she know I have the best lawyer there is." I take a sip of tea before responding.

"Thank you, for lending your lawyer to me. Are you sure I can't try and pay you back for his time?" this was the tenth time I had offered to pay for the man's services. I slice my muffin in half as he replies.

"Greg, not only is that quite unnecessary, but you would not be unable to afford him. Besides I promised you that I would help." He pulled out a file and slid it across the table to me.

"And this is?" I ask, before taking a bite out of one half of my muffin.

"You are officially a free man Greg. She is no longer your wife, she can't even use your last name anymore." He revealed.

"Really! You can do that?" I cough out through my mouth full of muffin.

"I can." Was his simple reply.

"I don't even know what to say. I mean sure thanks and all that but, this. This is bloody brilliant." I enthused.

"No need to thank me Lestrade, just consider my debt paid."

"Of course! I just, I can't believe it. It's all over." I let out a sigh of relief and felt all my anxieties melt away. Taking another sip of tea to wash down my muffin, I noticed Mycroft eying up my food. '_That's right, he has a sweet tooth.'_ I remember to myself. "Do you want the other half?" I offered, and he looked slightly surprised at my offer.

"No thank you, I'm on a diet." He said with twinge of regret.

"Why?" The words were out before I could stop myself.

"What do you mean why? Why do people usually go on diets? Even you can't be that thick." He barked.

"I know why people diet, to be healthy and lose weight. I'm not dumb. I just didn't understand why you would need to do any of those things." I felt a blush beginning to creep up my neck.

"Are you implying something Greg?" he smirked.

"I'm just saying that your fine the way you are." I rushed out, my face probably beet red. He chuckled softly before standing in preparation to leave.

"Thank you Greg." He smiled, picked up the other half of muffin and strode out of the café, umbrella swinging beside him.


End file.
